


Voodoo is a thing?

by DeputyDylinski



Series: Everyone wants to mate Stiles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: After 5b, BAMF Stiles, Blood, Character Death, F/M, Hurt!Stiles, Isaac Never Left, Kidnapped Lydia, Kidnapped Stiles, POV First Person, POV Lydia, POV Stiles, Pain, Sexy Stiles, Shirtless Stiles, Stiles is everybody's perfect mate, Stydia, Temporary Character Death, Tied up Stiles, Torture, Voodoo, Witch want to mate Stiles, Witches, spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 17:58:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6161764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeputyDylinski/pseuds/DeputyDylinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, doc, what is going on?" Stiles asks Deaton. The whole pack came along, afraid that it will happen again.</p><p>"You said that there are witches in Beacon Hills?" Deaton asks.</p><p>They all nod.</p><p>"They may be the cause of your... Problem. Ever heard of voodoo?"</p><p>"Is that a thing?" Liam asks.</p><p>"That's awesome!" Mason says.</p><p>"Yes, it is, and no, it's not," Deaton says strictly. "It's really dangerous. When the witch doesn't let Stiles rest enough, or give him time enough to heal, he can die."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voodoo is a thing?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I wasn't quite happy with my previous work, but I'm a lot happier with this one. I think that's because I now write with a first person pov, so I can channel all the emotions and feelings out of other characters, and it works way better for me that way (and I hope I did good on Stiles' sarcasm...).  
> Keep this in mind: I'm Dutch, so English is not my native language. It isn't beta'd, so there could be some mistakes.  
> I make it a series, because I have a lot of ideas for creatures who want to maye Stiles, and I think all the people in Beacon Hills are ignoring him, even though he is sexy as hell (tnx to Dylan O'Brien, duh...)  
> I do have more ideas for other stories, so I can't promise I will update this serie soon.  
> I hope you'll enjoy it!  
> Let me know in the comments if you have ideas, and kudo's and comments are always welcome!

It is packnight at Derek's. Everyone is there: Kira, Isaac, Scott, Liam, Mason (yes, he is part of the inner circle...) Derek and Lydia. And me of course.

There's a new threat in town (it's not a threat just yet, but you never know, right?); a coven of witches. And we thought we already saw everything. Guess not, huh?

The plan is to mark them on the map of Beacon Hills, get some ideas on how to stop them when they attack, and then watch a movie (Lydia and I are still bickering about wich one: The Internship or The First Time. Still don't get it why people want to see such a movie, or even play in it...), with popcorn, soda and Reese's. After that sleeping in a puppy pile. Yup, that's actually a thing that we do, and even Derek participates in it.

"So, any ideas?" Scott asks, looking at me.

I raise my eyebrows.

"Well, you're always the one with the plans, even though some of them are ridiculous..." Liam says, but when I shoot him a deadly glare, he stops immediatly.

"Well, thank you, Liam. Okay, I do have a plan, and it's not ridiculous, okay? So..."

A sudden feeling of nausea and dizzyness let me stumble. I feel a pair of hands keeping me standing, and I hear a few voices ask what is wrong.

"Just... Dizzy," I say when the feeling is gone. Weird, I think. "It just came. But it's gone now."

"Do you want some water?" Kira asks, already heading to the kitchen.

"No, I'm fine."

"So, your plan?" Derek says impatient.

"Yeah, so..."

No dizzyness this time, but a hot, stinging pain in my stomach.  
I gasp and my right hand automatically searches for something to stabalize myself while my left one goes to my stomach.  
I stumble backwards, almost tripping over my own feet.

"Stiles!" I hear Lydia yell.

I look down where my hand is resting on my abs (yeah, I know, _Stiles has abs_? Damn right I have! I've been training, and not just lacrosse) and see blood staining my hand.  
"What the hell?" I mumble before feeling like a blade gets stabbed between my ribs.  
My knees give out and I fall on the cold floor of Derek's loft, panting like I've been running for three hours.

"What the fuck is going on?" I hear Scott exclaim when he kneels beside me. He shreds my shirt to examine my torso.

But before he can say anything else, I black out.

#

I open my eyes wide before I sit up straight to look around the room. Still Derek's loft.

"Stiles!" Lydia says.

I turn around and see that she's sitting on the couch that I'm lying on. I smile before lying down again, my head lands in her lap.

She runs he fingers through my hair before kissing my forehead. "You okay?" she whispers against my skin.

"Don't stop," I whine when she pulls her finger out off my hair. She  continues smiling.

"I think I'm fine. What happened?"

She shrugs. "We don't know. Scott called Deaton, and he wants you to visit him tomorrow."

"Why tomorrow?" The last time I checked, it was just around 5 pm.

"Because it's 2 am. You passed out for like 8 hours."

"Stiles?" Scott enters the room, looking relieved.

"Hey, buddy," I smile. I stand up, and get embraced in a typical Scott-hug. "Can't. Breath. Scotty."

"Oh, sorry man. How are you?"

"Fine. I just want to know what the fuck happened." I look down my body, which is still shirtless. I see thin, white, short lines covering my skin in the exact places where I felt the stabbing. I reach for them, and when I touch one, I quickly retract my fingers.  
"Hot," I hiss in pain. I suck on my fingers, trying to cool down my burned skin.  
"Any shirts around?" I ask, looking around.

"Yeah, Liam picked up some clothes. Do you want to take a shower?" Lydia asks, already pulling me toward the stairs.

"Yeah, sure?" I shrug. She leads me up the stairs, down the hall and into the bathroom. When I close the door behind me, I feel small hands on my shoulders. They turn me around, and before I know what's going on, I feel full lips on mine.

Yeah, Lydia is my girlfriend. Lydia _fucking_ Martin. Sorry I didn't mention that, but I'm still surprised myself, even after three months.

I lick along her lips, demanding entrance. Teasingly she opens her mouth a little bit, not enough. I wrap my hands around her tighs, hoisting her up so her legs can wrap around my waist. She still doesn't give me permission to enter her mouth with my tongue, so I just travel her jawline with my lips. I walk over to the sink, letting her sit on it. She lets out a moan when I suck on the sensitive spot on her neck. I smile against her skin, and let my tongue make a path towards her collarbone. I graze with my teeth another sensitive spot, and she moans my name.

"You know" *kiss* "that this loft" *lick* " is filled with" *suck* "werewolves?"

Another moan.

"And those werewolves" *still sucking* "have" *bite* "supernatural" *suck* "hearing abilities?" *lick*

She nods, pushing me away. I look at her, at the hickey appearing on her pale skin. She is so beautiful. "You are so beautiful," I tell her.

"You are not so bad yourself, Stilinski," she chuckles shyly. "Now go shower, I'll wait downstairs. Oh, the clothes are on the sink."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Not anymore, they are on the floor now. But you can grab them yourself: it's your fault you put me on the sink."

" _You_ started kissing _me_."

"That's not relevant, Stiles. Just take your shower."

#

"So, doc, what is going on?" I ask Deaton. The whole pack came along, afraid that it will happen again.

"You said that there are witches in Beacon Hills?" Deaton asks.

We all nod.

"They may be the cause of your... Problem. Ever heard of voodoo?"

"Is that a thing?" Liam asks.

"That's awesome!" Mason says.

"Yes, it is, and no, it's not," Deaton says strictly. "It's really dangerous. When the witch doesn't let him rest enough, or give him time enough to heal, he can die."

"Well, nothing's new. I'm always in danger. But why me? Because I'm human?"

"It doesn't matter if you're human or a supernatural creature or even an animal. So we have to figure out why she chose you. And I want you to stay here."

"And why is that?" Lydia demands. Just like me, she doesn't really trust the guy. He is to mysterious and... Yeah, mysterious.

"I want to see it happen," Deaton simply explains.

"I don't think you have to wait long," I mumble when I feel the nausea and dizzyness build up. I stumble toward the steel table to hold myself up. I prepare for torturous pain, but the only thing is stinging in my chest. I pull my shirt off to see what the hell is happening now. Thin, bloody lines are decorating my bare chest. Blood drips out of the cuts. But I can't see what is going on.

"I think she is writing something," Deaton suggests.

"That's sick," Derek says.

"What the hell is she writing, then?" I manage to choke out. But then the pain stops: she stopped craving letters into my skin. I almost puke at the thought of someone doing that.  
"What does it say? _GUYS_!" I exclaim when no one answers.

" _Mine_ ," Kira answers.

"What?"

"It says _mine_. That's disgusting."

Scott hands me a wet towel to wipe away the blood, and I wince when I touch the open cuts. But the first two letters are already healing.

"How's that possible?" I ask Deaton. "Is she doing that?"

"I think so," he answers, staring at my chest.

"Then why would she hurt him first? It doesn't make sense," Mason mumbles.

"But how am I going to school if this just... Happens? What if I'm in the middle of class and I start feeling dizzy and I start bleeding all over the place? And my dad? And all my shirts! Two of my favorite shirts are ruined!" I exclaim angrily.

"We will buy new ones, Stiles," Lydia reassures me. She pets my bicep while she holds my hand.

"We need a plan," Derek says. "We know where they are staying, we just need a plan to attack them and force them to stop this voodoo-shit."

"Maybe we don't have to force them or even attack them," Scott says. He is the True Alpha after all.

"Are you even listening to Deaton?" Lydia demands. "She can kill him! She just has to stab a _fucking_ needle through the heart of that _fucking_ doll and he's gone! And you think they will just listen and let us alone when we ask nicely? Use your brain, McCall! It's your best friend's life that's on the line! Your brother's life, for God's sake!" She is yelling now.

"Lyds," I try to cool her down.

"Don't _Lyds_ me, Stiles! We almost lost you before this, several times, I'm not ready to loose you yet."

"You are not gonna loose me, Lydia. You're not getting rid off me that easily and you know it."

"I don't know it, that's the thing. I had this awful feeling when it happened to you, but now? Nothing. And I'm terrified, and I know the others feel the same. Even Scott." She looks at Scott, and if eyes could kill, Scott would've exploded right there and then.

#

The next time it happens is during econ, coaches class.

"Stilinski!" he yells.

"Yeah, coach?"

"Solve the problem on the board, will you? You're the only one that is awake right now."

"Aw, I feel flattered," I respond and I walk over to the front off the class. When Finnstock hands me the crayon, the now familiar feeling of nausea hits me. I stumble and look for Scott. When I find his eyes, I nod.

He stands up quickly, grabbing me to hold me up and walks me out off class.

"McCall! Where do you think you're going?!" coach yells.

"I uhh... We'll be back soon!" Scott yells back before shoving me through the hallway in the direction of the lockerroom.

And then the pain starts. I scream on the top of my lungs, like I'm trying to ease the pain, but it doesn't help.  
My knees go weak and tears form in my eyes. A hot, torturous pain starts spreading on my back.

"We're almost there, Stiles," Lydia says. _That's right, we came by her classroom on the way to the locker room_ , I think to myself before I scream again.

Isaac runs into the locker room when Scott lowers me to the floor and lets me lean on one of the benches. He rips my shirt off and gasps when he sees my bare back. He also gags (because of the smell, of course, not because I disgusting looking back. Lydia actually... Sorry, I'm trailing off) when I start screaming again.

"Here," Lydia says when she hands me a towel. I open my mouth and put it in it, so I can bite on it. She pets my back with a wet one.

Liam and Mason storm through the door. Kira follows suit.

"What is going on?!" Mason exclaims.

"We heard him scream, and the smell..." Isaac begins.

"She is burning him," Liam whispers when he looks at my back.

I scream inside the towel when the agonizing pain starts again, and I feel in an instant all of the hands of the wolves on my skin, leeching the pain away, and I sigh in relief.

"Thanks," I mutter after removing the towel, but I groan when I smell the burned skin of my back.

"I think it stopped," Isaac mumbles.

"Thank God," I mumble. I stand up and sit down on the bench, my elbows on my thighs and my head in my hands. Scott is still leeching the pain away.

"You guys can go to your class again," Lydia says before sitting next to me. She lays her head on my shoulder. "Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

#

Pack training is one of the most fun things ever. I just throw knives at the targets I places on the trees. I just fire bullets at the wolves (non-lethal bullets! Just fake ones!) before they lunge towards me and knock the air out of my lungs. It helps to get my mind off of things, especially now I just want not to think about all this voodoo-crap.

I take all of the knives out off my backpack and slide them between my waistband of my jeans and the leatherbelt I have to wear because it looks sexy, or whatever. Thanks, Lyds.

After I put two guns in my waistband behind my back, I jump a few times to get loosend up.

"Want to fight, Little Red?" I hear a familiar voice whisper in my ear. I quickly grab a knife and hold it against the man's troath. There's one person who uses that nickname.

"Sure, grandpa." How can I ever say no to that bastard? I never fought him before.

"Guys!" Isaac yells. "Stiles and Peter are going to fight! 10 bucks on Peter!"

"15 on Stiles," Scott exclaims.

"I'm with Scott!" Kira says.

"Sorry man, 20 on Peter," Mason smiles.

"Is this really a good idea? What if..." Lydia says, but I interrupt her.

"Now is the time to get our minds off of this crap, babe." I know that she loves it when I call her that. "Come on, make your bet, Lyds."

"Allright then, 50 on Stiles."

My mouth falls open. I know I'm going to lose: it's Peter fucking Hale, the bad guy who will kill anyone who's standing in his way, even if it's a 5 year old kid. Okay, maybe he isn't that cruel, but still, I stand by my point: it's Peter fucking Hale.

"30 on Peter," Liam says.

"The point of betting is that yours is higher than the other..." Mason explains.

"I know, but 50... Derek! Make your bet!"

Derek just snorts and shrugs. "Nah. I just want to watch."

"Sure, sourwolf. So, grandpa, wanna get started?" I walk backwards so I'm a few feet away of Peter, and he does the same thing.

"Okay, remember, safeword is chipotle!" Scott yells. "On the count of three! One, two..."

"Motherfucker," I mumble when I see Peter run towards me, already wolfed-out. "I knew it. Fucking cheater!"

"...Three!"

I grab one of he guns and point it at Peter, but he's a werewolf, and he's fast. Hell, he has wolfsenses! Of course he is fast.

Before Peter can get to me, I run off to the right, before jumping to the left. Get that old wolf tired, zigzag.

I disappear behind a tree, loading my gun again: I fired a few shots, but it didn't pay off.  
I hear Peter stalking towards the tree I'm hiding behind, and I try to control my breathing, otherwise I'll miss again. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath through my nose, and I exhale slowly through my parted lips.  
I open my eyes again and jump from behind my hidingspot.

Peter's blue eyes are smirking at me. Not that that's actually a thing, but they light up creepy when he smiles and reveals his fangs.

I aim for his right thigh, and I actually succeed. I immediatly shoot him in his shoulder. I throw my gun away (all my bullets are gone) and grab the one I strapped on my right thigh. But the bullets I fired at Peter did not really did something. Like I said: these are for practice, no wolfsbane, mistletoe or mountain ash prducts are allowed at the training. Fuck that rule.

So I improvise, use my acting skills and provide of the voodoo-thing: I fall to my knees, grabbing my leg in my hands and scream in 'pain'. Fake tears stream down my face and I start sobbing.  
But when I see Peter kneeling in front of me, I punch him hard, aiming for his temple. He falls, and that enough time for me to stand up and grab a knife in both hands.

Peter stands up again, but is still a bit disoriented. I push him towards a tree and he stumbles over his own feet, his back slamming hard into the tree trunk. I stab him through his uninjured shoulder, literally pinning him against the tree. I grab his other arm and I also pin it against the trunk. I grab a slimmer knife, and I point it at his left eye.

"Wait," Peter gasps.

"You know the safeword, grannie." I know I'm smiling my smuggiest smile, but I don't care.

"Really?"

"Say it."

"Fine. Chipotle. Happy now?"

"Actually no. Say the other thing."

"What other thing, boy? I already said the fucking safeword! Now get that knife out off my eye!"

"You know what you need to say," I reply when I bring the knife a little closer. "Come on, say it."

"I..."

"Say. It."

"Fine, fine! You won! Little Red fucking won! Now get the hell away from me!"

I shrug, turn around and leave him there. I smile when I hear Scott cheer, exclaiming that everybody needs to pay.

#

"Stiles!" Lydia yells when she and Scott come running through the kitchen door.

"What's going on?" I ask, startled when I see her terrified expression. I'm just prepairing dinner, lasagna today. Mine will never beat Melissa's, but I'm a teenage boy who needs his  
carbohydrates, even when his surrogate mom is at work.

"I just had this awfull feeling," Lydia chokes out, her eyes watery when she scans my body. Then she lurges forward, into my arms. She sobs in my shoulder, and I pet her hair, mumbling soothing things in her ear.

I look over to Scott and I raise my eyebrows.

"She called me," he simply aswers with a shrug, but a relieved smile is playing on his lips.

"I'm okay, guys. I swear." I press a kiss on Lydia's temple.

"Thank God. But I don't get it," she mumbles when she takes a step back. Confusion is all written over her beautifull face.

"Sure it was about me? Not anyone else from the pack?"

"You, no one else. Maybe it's that tether thing, but I am sure you were in trouble."

"Well, nothing happened. Wanna stay for dinner? Lasagna, never as good as your moms, but it's not bad."

"Shut up, dude. You're an amazing cook."

"Stop that, wolfboy, you're making me blush." And after that I turn around and start making the lasagna. Scott is helping me, and Lydia sets the table, because she can't cook. Or bake. Or do anything with food that isn't eating. It's horrible. But she won't give up, and it's adorable when she tries making food and starts cursing and she smears things in her face and hair. Eventually I have to help her, or rather rescue her before she is setting the kitchen or herself on fire. And then she kisses me and rewards me with wicked sex after dinner. I love her cooking skills. And I love her.

Scott puts the lasagna in the oven, and we walk over to the livingroom, where Lydia is watching Friends while lying on the couch. She is barefoot and she is wearing my red hoodie over her black dress.

But I had to know that after two days without that crazy witch torturing me, she would get bored. This time it isn't something bloody or painful. Okay, a bit painful: she is choking me.

First I feel nauseous, but that's a given, just like the dizzyness that's attacking my head. Then it feels like a large hand is closing around my throat, and immediatly I start to panic: I reach for my neck, trying to pull the slowly thightning fingers away. I make a half choking, half sobbing sound, and Scott and Lydia turn around. Their eyes widen when they see my red face.

"What is she doing?" Scott demands, eyeing me with concern. His gaze slides over my body, looking for the crimson liquid that he expects to flow out of my body, but he can't find it.

I stumble back, dizzy and lightheaded. I know I'm going to pass out if that voodoo-woman doesn't stop right now.  
My back hits the wall, and it feels like I get pressed against it.

"Stiles! Stay with me! Breathe, okay?" Lydia says. She grabs my head in her hands and she rubs smoothing circles with her thumbs on my cheeks.

 _Déjà vu_ , I want to say, but only a broken sob comes out. The edges of my vision start to blur. I shake my head to show them that I can't breathe.

Black and red spots are dancing in front of my eyes, and I squeeze them closed.  
I feel Lydia's lips on my forehead, and I try to concentrate on that gentle touch. When that is all I can feel, I fall in a not so peaceful black hole.

#

"What the fuck is going on?" a fimiliar voice demands, confusion and anger and hurt all seeping through the words.

"Language, pops," I mumble with a raspy voice when I sit up. I reach for my throath, as if that is going to help sooth the pain when I talk.

Lydia and Melissa are asleep on the couch, and Dad was in a heated discussion with Scott.

"What's going on, son?" Dad demands.

"I..."

"Stiles! Answer me!"

"I actually want to know it too," Melissa mumbles sleepily. She and Lydia must've woken up when my dad started yelling at me.

"I think you need to tell them, babe," Lydia encourages me.

I nod, seeking for words. "I, uh... Well, there are witches in town..."

"Are you freaking kidding me?!"

"John, shut up."

"No, I am not kidding, unfortunatly. One of them... One of those witches practices voodoo, and she is practicing it on me," I finish, staring at the ground.

"And what does that mean?" Melissa asks.

"It's not the same as the posession, right? Thank God," my dad sighs when I frantically shake my head. In the beginning I actually thought of that, and when Deaton said it was a witch thing, I was really, like really, relieved.

"But it's dangerous. She can kill him," Scott says.

"Scott! Do you want to give my dad a heart attack?!"

"What has she done?" Melissa reaches out, her fingers petting my cheeck. "Can we see it?"

"I really don't..."

"Let me see it! I want to know what she is doing to my son! Take your shirt off, kid."

"I don't really want to perform a striptease in front..."

"Stiles..."

"Okay, okay." I pull my shirt up, so you can only see my stomach and my lower back. They don't need to see the word that is carved in my chest.

"Sweetheart," Melissa whispers in shock when she sees my back. I know the scars are extreme there, I saw it in the mirror when I came out of the shower, and it is horrible: pointy ovals are decorating my entire back, some still pink, some dark, some white like the lines on my stomach. And like those lines, they're hot when you touch them.

"You are hiding something, kid."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are." He steps towards me, and grabs the hem of my shirt.

I try to slap his hands away, stepping backwards, but he still gets a hold of my shirt and pulls it upwards. He gasps when he sees the red lines that spell the word _mine_.

"What..."

"Dad..."

"Come here, kid." He pulls me into a thight hug, and he doesn't let go off me for like the next half an hour. After 10 minutes or so, the rest joins us, making it a group hug.

I'm so glad I have these people in my life.

#

"So, you found something," I say to Deaton with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, I did." He grabs a thing wrapped in royal blue fabric, placing in on the table. He gestures to me to open it.

I carefully pull back the fabric, and it reveals a medieval looking knife

"What does it do?" Derek asks. He looks suspiciously at the dagger.

"It can kill the most powerful supernatural creature. I looked for it everywhere, and I think I found it's rightfull owner."

Liam reaches for it, but Deaton quickly says that he really doesn't want to touch it.

"When you touch it, you literally will explode. Only three people can touch it, and already two did. When the last one does touch it, everyone who also does, will experience extreme pain, or will die immediatly. And I want Mr. Stilinski to be the third person."

I raise my eyebrows, but I don't move my hand towards it.

"What are you waiting for?" Mason asks impatiently.

"How can you be so sure that only two people ever touched it?" Lydia demands. She reaches for my hand, and we intertwine fingers. I'm not even sure if she knows she does it.

"I am not, but my sources are reliable."

"You sure, doc?" Isaac asks.

"Yes, definitly."

"Stiles, I don't know..." Derek begins, but I shrug and grab the damn dagger. The only thing I feel is a little shock.

"You're an idiot," Derek growls.

I shrug again. "Never would've known if I didn't try it. So, this can kill that witch?"

"Yes, it indeed can. I don't have to explain how it works, it is now like an extent of your arms."

"Cool, even though it sounds weird and creepy," Scott grins.

"Well, the only thing we have to do now is make a plan, and I think I already have one."

#

Lydia and I are back in her room, just cuddling. Her face is burried in my chest, and I rest my chin on top of it.

"Stiles?"

"Hm?"

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what? I don't..."

Black.

#

  
I wake up with fog clouding in my head, and I immediatly feel that my hands are cuffed behind my back, chains connecting with a pole where I'm leaning against, that my mouth is taped shut, and that a blindfold is covering my eyes.

_Nice. Just perfect. There goes the plan..._

"Stiles? Are you awake? You want me to call you Stiles, right? Just nod or shake your head," a female voice says, but I ain't doing anything. My brain is drifting in my head, and my body isn't working either.

"Still feeling weird? I get that, it's a pretty strong spell, but otherwise the banshee wouldn't have come down. She is here, by the way. She is just trapped in one of my spells. She is able to see us, to hear us. And we are able to see her, well, I am," she chuckles. "But we can't hear her. She is able to move in a twelve feet radius, so don't worry, I didn't tie her up or anything."

I flinch away when she touches my cheek, petting it. Then I feel a pair of lips on that spot. I want to jerk my head away, but she holds my hair with her hand.

"Don't struggle. I'll take the blindfold away, okay?"

A few fingers reach behind my head, loosening the knot. She carefully takes the piece of fabric away, and I blink when my eyes are attacked by bright sunlight. I let them adjust, and when I can see clearly I search for Lydia.

She stands there, fierce, brave, but with tears in her eyes. She looks determined, angry, hurt. She is slamming against the invisible wall that's holding her there. It reminds me of a barrier of mountain ash and werewolves.

I pull at my restraints, but it earns me a stinging pain in my right shoulder. I scream against the tape and look at my shoulder, see that blood is staining my white shirt.

_Now she owns me three shirts._

I look up at the girl, who's holding a doll as big as two fists. It looks exactly like me, it's creepy: it's hair looks like mine, it has moles dotted across it's face, it even has my weird nose (Lydia thinks it is a cute nose, she likes to kiss it, wich usually develops in a full make out scene, so I'm not complaining). Even the eyes are exactly the same.

The girl herself is pretty: she has short, light brown hair, nice long legs and a cute face. She wears hotpants, kneesocks with boots, and an army jacket.

If I weren't tied up and tortured for over two weeks, I would've felt flattered.

"So, uhm... Where shall I begin? I think I owe you an explenation." She smiles sweetly. "So, you know about werewolves and mates, right? Well, witches also have mates. I know, it sounds weird, but it is true. Banshee's don't." She looks over her shoulder and raises her eyebrows at Lydia.

Lydia gives her her sweetest smile, and gives her the finger. I try really hard not to laugh. _That's why I love her._

The witch turns around again. "Obviously, you are my mate. You're mine. I finally found my mate! It's you, Stiles. I love you!" she exclaims, clapping her hands. Then she leans forward and rips the tape from my lips.

I cough and wet my lips. "I... Can you help me stand up?" I asks. I'll play the part, say that I love her, even when that makes me want to puke. But if it saves Lydia, I'll do whatever it takes. So I look over to her, my eyes asking for forgiveness and trying to project all my love to her.

She nods, smiling weakly.

I turn towards the girl again. "You're beautiful. What's your name?"

"Malia, Malia Tate" she giggles, and she blushes.

"That's a cute name. What are those things?" I asks, pointing with my chin toward a pile of... Things.

"The others," she shrugs. "I thought these were my mates, but I killed them when I found out they didn't love me."

I get dizzy when she says that. 'The others' are almost twenty people. I actually thought that I didn't have to kill her, but now? Now I have to act like I am a _fucking_ Oscar winning actor. She has to believe me.

"Do you love me, Stiles?" she asks wearily.

"I..."

"Stiles..."

"I'm just confused. Why did you hurt me?" I refer to the scars on my body, the blue fingerprints on my throat and my still bleeding shoulder.

"To show all of your so called friends and family that they can't save you, that only I can do that when I heal you again. You get that, right?"

"Of course I do. But how did you know it was me?"

"I saw you at the lacrosse field, training with the other guys and that Asian girl, Kira? Anyways, you took off your helmet, went with your fingers through your hair like a comb and looked up. Your eyes caught the sun and they looked like they were filled with liquid gold, and I felt something tuck at my heart and I just knew. You know that feeling, right? When you just _know_ it, even though you don't know what it is. That everything just seems... Right."

I nod. "I do," I whisper, and I look at Lydia for a short moment. She looks back, and we both _know_.

"So," I begin, pouting my lips as I draw out the 'o'. "Are you going to heal my shoulder? It's distracting me from you." Bile rises in my throat when I let these words out of my mouth.

"Oh God, sorry!" Malia exclaims. She grabs the doll a bit too tight, so all air leave my lungs.

I gasp for air and my eyes begin to water, but Malia doesn't seem to notice it. She rubs her tumb over the right shoulder of the doll, and the pain is gone, the bleeding stopped. And I can breathe properly again.

"Thanks, my love," I smile, and Malia's cheeks redden in an instant. She begins to giggle, what is actually quite cute.

She stops her giggles, and slowly stalks over to me. Her eyes wander over my face, and I feel a bit uncomfortable. To hell with a bit, I feel uncomfortable, pronto.  
Malia's eyes stop at my lips, and I lick them without even noticing it.  
She steps closer again, and she lifts her hand up to touch my cheek.

"I... Can you uncuff me? I want to touch you too," I say with a low voice. Lydia helped me with flirting, and I now know that my raspy/low/whisper voice is actually quite sexy.

"Really?"

I nod and smile a small grin.

"O-okay," she mumbles incrediously. Her eyes are wide and glistening with hope and... Love? I almost feel sorry for her that I have to kill her.

She flicks her wrist and the cufs immediatly fall off my hands. I massage my bleeding and raw wrists before I also reach my hand out to touch her.

"But why is Lydia here, though?" I asks her quietly.

"You have to kill her, my love."

I quickly retract my hand and stare at Lydia, who stares back with wide eyes.

"W-what? Why?"

"To prove your love to me, of course." Malia seems confused.

"But I love you, I don't have to prove that." Ew, ew, ew, ew!

"How else do I know that you feel the same for me?" She is angry now, and she squeezes the doll in her hand.

"Oof," I gasp out and I fold double.  
"I will not willingly kill anyone! I love you! I don't have to proof that to anyone! I just want to kiss you." The last sentence I whisper, and I look through my eyelashes at the witch.

She lets the doll fall when she nods. It falls on its head, and pain explodes in my own. I groan, but ignore it.

She stalks over to me and touches my cheek. She smiles and leans in, just like me. We rest out foreheads against the other. My left hand comes up to rest at her cheek, but the other one dissapeard behind my back. I feel the cold metal in my hand and I slowly and wearily take my dagger out of my belt.  
Malia doesn't notice it, and she closes her eyes. I know that this is the moment: I lean in and our lips almost touch, but then I drive the dagger into her back, straight through the flesh and bone of her ribs, so 1/3 of the dagger is sticking out of her front.

Malia gasps and opens her eyes. They are total black, dark and dangerous. She looks at the dagger, then at me.  
"What?"

"Lift that spell, Malia. Let Lydia go."

"But you said you loved me!" She screams, her voice trembling with anger and pain.

"I've learned to lie. With all those werewolves with supernatural hearing abilities? I know how to control my heartbeat."

"But you are my mate! You're mine! _You'll always be mine_!"

And before I know it, she grabs my shoulders and pulls me towards her. I feel the point of the dagger dig in my ribs, and I gasp in sudden pain. I stagger back and look down, see that my white shirt will not be the same color soon.  
My knees give out and I fall. It seems to take for ever to hit the ground, and when I do a jolt of pain travels through my body. I groan and roll over to throw up. All comes out is blood, and a lot of it.  
My vision starts to blurr and sounds are overwhelming. But suddenly there are no sounds anymore, and my vision is as bright as it ever was.

The only thing I can see is Lydia.

Beautiful, crying Lydia.

Beautiful, crying, _screaming_ Lydia.

#  
**Lydia**

"But you are my mate! You're mine! _You'll always be mine_!"

Malia grabs Stiles, and pulls him towards her so their bodies are aligned.

I can't see what's going on, but the sudden feeling of death is overwhelming.

I see Stiles' eyes go wide. God, those eyes... It is exactly what Malia described: when sunlight reaches them, they look like gold. They are so fucking beautiful.

They _were_ beautiful. They are now not even wiskey: dark brown chocolate is claiming his irises, making them look like they never will be wiskey or gold again.

Stiles stumbles back, and when he looks down, I look down as well. Blood is seeping throuh the thin fabric of his shirt. He clutches his stomach and falls. His head hits the ground, hard. He groans and rolls to his side.

I begin crying then. I realize that it's his blood, that he is injured. That the feeling of death is not just for that witch, but also for Stiles, my best friend, my boyfriend, the man who keeps us all together as a pack. He's everything to everyone, and now we are losing him.

He throws up blood. A lot of blood. He rolls back again and a trail of the red liquid leaves a trail behind from the corner of his mouth to his jawline.

His eyes finally settle on mine, and when I see the dark brown of his irises, I scream his name.

After what feels like too long, I'm able to move again, but this time I'm not getting held back by an invisible wall. I almost fall when I stumble towards Stiles. I pass Malia, whose eyes are staring blankly up the ceiling, the dagger still burried in her, the point of it red with her and Stiles' blood.

I kneel beside Stiles, and lift his upperbody so it is resting against my chest. His head lolls in the crook of my neck, his cold skin pressing against mine.

I let one of my hands wander in his hair, and to other one is clasping his body firmly against mine.

"I l-love you, Stiles," I whisper. "You did really g-good. I know y-you love me, and I-I love you. Like a lot, it's almost s-scary. You will be m-missed, babe, by e-everyone, even D-Derek." I chuckle. "I l-love you, I love you. I f-fucking love you, S-Stiles. I, Lydia Martin, love you, Stiles Stilinski..."

"Lydia!"

I turn around and see Scott standing there, the pack behind him, John and Melissa are there as well.  
Scott looks at the girl, lying on the floor. Then he looks at me, and then at his best friend who is not moving. Or talking. Or breathing.

"S-Stiles?" John chokes out, and he grabs Melissa's arm to hold him up.

Scott runs towards us, and kneels on the other side of Stiles. I release him slightly, and Scott takes him in his arm. Stiles' head lolls to his chest and his arms fall limp beside him. Blood is still trickling down from his lips.

The pack comes closer. Everyone is crying silently, grabbing on to eachother for support.

"What happened?" Derek asks.

So I tell them. How Malia used a spell to knock us out. How I woke up and saw Stiles lying there, still unconscious and tied up. How Malia rambled about how perfect he was. How Stiles woke up, how Malia stabbed that doll, how she told him about the others, how he managed to let her believe he loved her, how he stabbed her, and how she stabbed him.

"My son! No, not my son! God, Stiles!" John falls to his knees beside me. He reaches for Stiles, but Scott is still nuzzling his neck.

"Please, Stiles," he whispers. "Come on, bro, don't leave us. Don't leave me. Come on..."

I look around me. Kira and Isaac are holding Derek's arms, faces burried in his chest. Mason and Liam are holding on to eachother. Melissa sits beside John. Scott is still clutching Stiles.

The sun starts to shine brightly through the large windows of the building. It lights Stiles' blood up like it is fire. It's awfull. Everyone should be mourning over this incredible human, even the stars, the sky, the moon and the sun. The world lost its most beautiful and strongest person who ever existed, and it is ignoring its loss.

My attention gets drawn to Scott, who is still hunched over Stiles' body. He is sobbing uncontrolably. Even with Allison he wasn't so devestated. I wasn't so devestated. Losing another friend, another best friend... It is destroying my world little by little, and in a few hours there's nothing left.  
I know Scott feels the same. He lost his best friend, his brother. He'll never find someone like Stiles again, just like I won't.

My thoughts stop when I hear my Alpha howl in agony. A few seconds after that all the wolves are howling with him. A scream rises in my throat, and Kira is sparkling with electricity.

And then I do it. I scream again. A high, sad scream. It overpowers the howls of the others, but Scott's howl is still harder then mine.

We all stop when we're out of breath. Scott gives Stiles to John, then he kneels beside me, and we hug. We hug for what feels like hours, and we cry for what feels like an eternity.

Eventually everyone gets to hold Stiles. Especially the wolves seem to need it. The scent mark him, nuzzle his neck and howl silently. After that, Scott and I lie him in the middle of the room. We all stand there, watching him.

Then he begins to cough, and his whole body starts to convulse. His eyes fly open and he rolls to his side, vomiting blood. And again, and again, until he is dry heaving. He rolls back and moans.

We all are staring at him in shock, nit able to move or say anything.

"Holy shit," Stiles mumbles when he drags his arm across his lips to wipe away the blood. "Holy fucking shit. Did I just _die_?"

Then he looks around, and sees us all standig there. He looks back at his hands, counting his fingers, and looks around again, his eyes stopping at Malia.

"She is dead, right? She's not coming back to live either, right? Wait, am I a zombie now or something?" He turns around again, his eyes settling on mine. "God, Lyds! Are you okay?"  
He tries to stand, but his knees give out again.

I take that as my cue to run to him, falling with him. I hug him like I never have before, like he can die again there and then.

Then Scott joins us, slamming us to the ground with his werewolve strength. And then come John and Melissa, and Derek and Mason, Liam and Kira.

"The fuck happend?" Stiles mumbles in my shoulder.

"Language, son," John mutters and we all laugh.

"But still, am I a zombie now?"

_**Einde** _

 


End file.
